


What's The Fun If You Don't Scream?

by Deathtouch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Cock Warming, Collars, Come Eating, Crying, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Non-Consensual, Pain, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Humiliation, Punishment, Ramsay is his own warning, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tears, Threats of Violence, Vomit, Vomiting, forced come eating, forced puppy play, gross-out, mentions of abuse, mentions of flaying, past flaying, phew i think i got'em all. heed the warnings kids - this is ramsay bolton we're talking about here, threats of flaying, vomit-eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1504376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/pseuds/Deathtouch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>☛ In which Ramsay punishes Reek for not finishing his dinner</p><p>
  <i>He was a dog now, which was much better than what he’d been before, even if a dog’s life was sometimes hard.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's The Fun If You Don't Scream?

**Author's Note:**

> a birthday gift to the one true mackdaddy of westeros and best beta of all time, Subwaywolf. thank you for beta-reading your own fic, wolfu. i hope everyone enjoys it as much as you did! B)

There wasn’t much room for celebration now that winter was coming, but that didn’t mean there weren’t still feasts. Occasionally. Especially with how often Ramsay demanded them. Feasts and minstrels and long nights spent swilling ale or wine, swapping stories of gruesome deaths that men had both caused, and bore witness to. Some dinners lasted for hours, if Ramsay’s mood was good enough.

It was just Reek’s luck that tonight’s was lasting longer than ever. He was a dog now, which was much better than what he’d been before, even if a dog’s life was sometimes hard. His belly still ached with hunger all the time, and the threat of being flayed was as present as ever but at least he didn’t spend his days in the dark, and rats didn't come chewing at him in the night anymore.

Reek wore a collar around his throat now too, one of which he was not worthy. The leather was stiff, and his lord Ramsay had it fastened so tight around his throat he could scarcely swallow without pain. It cut into his skin, leaving dark red marks against his pale white complexion. None of that mattered though because Reek still liked wearing it. It meant he belonged to Ramsay. That thought nestled somewhere in his chest, and it made his belly warm with contentment. He belonged to someone. It felt nice to belong. Ramsay was so kind to him, it was an honor to be his. When he was unhappy he did unkind things, but Reek knew how to keep his lord pleased.

Reek had a special place between Ramsay’s legs during feasts now that he was a dog. It was more than the other dogs got, and just like Reek’s collar, it was an honor. The other dogs roamed the dining hall begging for scraps, but Reek got to sit at the head table! Well, under the head table. It was a privilege, and he knew not to take it for granted. All he had to do was behave. Sometimes that was easier said than done, but he tried his hardest. He really did.

One hard thing about behaving was how good the food smelled. Reek could smell every course as it was delivered to the table. It made his stomach growl and ache, which made it hard to sit still. His mouth would begin to water, and drool would ooze from the sides of his mouth down his chin. It always itched as it dried on the skin of his throat, and pooled under the leather of his collar making a wet squelching mess. He would wipe it away, but he wasn’t allowed to move. (Lord Ramsay's commands.)

He wasn’t usually allowed to use his hands, either. Dogs didn’t need hands, Ramsay told him. Or fingers. Reek was lucky he still had both. If he wanted to keep them, he wasn’t allowed to use them. If a dog couldn’t do it with their paw, Reek wasn’t allowed to do it with his hands. That was easy, though, because his mangled fingers were hard to use anyway, and they ached when he tried. Except when he was drooling. He always wanted to use his hands when he was drooling.

When the final course was brought to the table, after hours of talk and laughter, Reek couldn’t help but to groan. He couldn't tell what it was but, Gods, it smelled good. Ramsay didn’t like him making noise, though, and Reek expected a tug on his hair for being loud. If not that, than a good smack to make his ears ring. Surprisingly, he received neither.

Ramsay leaned back in his chair, peeking down at Reek under the table. “Hello, pup.” Ramsay said, smiling. He was happy to see his dog. “I’d nearly forgotten you down there 'till I felt you groaning,” he said.

Ramsay slid back the heavy chair he sat in. His soft cock came sliding from Reek’s lips, leaving its place there. Reek tried to chase after it, to keep it in his mouth, but it was to no avail. As good as it felt to breathe in without Lord Ramsay's cock nearly filling the back of his throat, Reek would be in real trouble now. He'd get a good smack for not keeping Ramsay's cock in his mouth, he was sure.

Reek swallowed his spit, closed his jaw, and lowered his head. His jaw didn't closed without a little pain though. He'd had to keep it open so wide for so long. Lord Ramsay's cock was awfully big, after all, and Reek got in trouble for letting his teeth so much as touch such sensitive skin. (Well, what was left of his teeth, anyway.) He had to keep his jaw wide and his lips sealed tight if he wanted to do a good job keeping Ramsay's cock warm.

“You’ve done well, Reek.” Ramsay told him as he tucked his cock away. He reached under the table to tip up Reek’s head by his chin. Ramsay found it covered in slobber and quickly pulled his hand back. He wiped his fingers, disgusted, on Reek’s bare shoulder.

“Thank you, my lord.” Reek croaked, his throat thick. A compliment! He’d done well! Pride swelled in his chest.

“Let me guess,” Ramsay smiled again. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

“How can that be,” a man said. Skinner, or Sour Alyn, or Damon Dance-for-me. Reek couldn’t be sure. Over the din of noise he couldn’t pick apart their voices. “He’s had his mouth full all night.”

That made Ramsay smile, and Reek’s ears turn pink. He hated when Ramsay, or his men, made him blush. His skin was so pale, it was impossible to hide. They teased him endlessly for turning red, as if he could help it. It was lucky he was under the table, hidden by shadow where no one could see.

“What do you say, Reek? Are you hungry?” Ramsay asked him sweetly.

Reek felt afraid for a moment. He wasn’t sure what the answer was. He stared up at his lord Ramsay with big eyes, not speaking at all. Better to not say anything than to say something wrong.

“It’s alright.” Ramsay cooed at him. “Tell me truly, dog. Are you hungry?”

Reek couldn’t help but to nod his head. He was. He was always hungry. Ramsay fed him scraps, which he was grateful for, but it was hardly ever enough. “If it please you, my lord. I am hungry.”

“If it please me?” Ramsay repeated, sounding rather amused. “And what if it doesn’t please me?”

Reek thought maybe it was a trick question. Ramsay asked a lot of those. "I... I _only_ want to please you, my lord." He said, honestly. Reek didn't know if it was the right answer, but it was the truth.

That made Ramsay laugh too. “Clever dog.” He said. Whether he was clever or not, the compliment made Reek smile a little. Or maybe it was Ramsay’s laugh that was infectious, encouraging him to not be afraid.

Ramsay was in a good mood tonight; he wouldn't be unkind to Reek. So Reek smiled, a shy little smile, and dropped his head to nuzzle Ramsay's knee to show just how eager to please he really was.

Ramsay reached for him. Reek flinched on instinct, even though he was not afraid. Thankfully his Lord Ramsay grabbed for his collar, and didn't hit him. He dragged Reek out from under the table, which made his neck ache and choked the breath from his throat. Reek would have come willingly, but his body was weak and his bones were frail and he was often too slow for Ramsay's liking. So he let himself be dragged along instead. It only hurt his knees a little, and he was glad for the change of position. He'd been sitting between Ramsay's legs for an awfully long time. Once Ramsay let go of his collar he could breathe again too, and the whole ordeal only elicited one sputtering cough.

Reek was pulled to Ramsay's side to sit. It was even more special than sitting under the table. Reek's heart leapt up to his throat, excited and nervous all at once. He wondered what he'd done to deserve such an honor, but he didn't ask. No, he moved to lay his head on Ramsay's thigh and he kept quiet. Ramsay liked that, the way Reek put his head in his lap sometimes. He thought it was funny when Reek did things like a real dog did. Ramsay wasn't laughing now, but he did drop his thick fingers to Reek's head to give his thin hair a scratch. It was too rough, and it hurt Reek's scalp, but he knew it was just the way his Lord Ramsay pet him and he'd grown used to it.

Ramsay addressed one of the men at the end of the table. Reek didn't know him by name, but he knew him as one of the Bastard’s Boys. He didn’t say as much out loud though. Reek wouldn’t dare say the word 'bastard' around his Lord Ramsay at all, no matter who he was referring to. That was asking for trouble.

“Have you got anything for my dog to eat?” Ramsay asked, innocently.

The man at the end of the table grunted, a noise that sort of sounding like ‘yes’. Reek lifted his head to look. His view was obstructed by the laps of other men, and the arms of chairs, but he could see as much as he needed to. He watched the man lift a bowl from the table. Reek’s mind reeled, thinking of all the delicious things that came in bowls, like soup and stew. What he wouldn’t give for a bowl of stew with carrots and onions and barley and beef. He’d lick the bowl clean!

His hopes came to a crashing stop as he saw the man take out his cock. Reek was scared he might be swallowing piss for dinner, but as he continued to watch in horror, the man began to stroke himself. Reek wasn't sure if that was worse, or better.

Reek's excitement drained from him and fear began to replace it.

The man continued stoking for a little while, and when he was finished he unloaded a big thick wad of come into the bowl with a groan. Just as soon as he was done he passed the bowl to the man next to him who did the same.

A horrible feeling grew in Reek's belly. A feeling that started out small and was made bigger and bigger by each man who contributed to his dinner. Reek watched nearly every single one of the Bastard's Boys come, hot and white, into the bowl. Skinner, and Damon, and Luton, and Yellow Dick. They all got a look at his name sake, which made the lot of them laugh.

Except Reek, he wasn't laughing. He wasn't smiling shyly anymore either. His chest was growing tight and his stomach felt sick. The bowl was passed to Ramsay who passed it over reek's head to give the men at the other end of the table a chance to help feed the pup. It was only Sour Alyn who refused, and Ramsay didn't appreciate his refusal.

That was just what Reek needed, for his Lord Ramsay to be unhappy.

By the time the bowl was passed back to him it was all messy with smears of sticky white on all sides. To Reek's horror, it was nearly full. The bowl wasn't very large, but it was large enough for Reek to know he'd never be able to eat all that. There was no way. No. Lord Ramsay was teasing him. He didn't actually expect...

"Dog?" Ramsay addressed him, holding the bowl above his head like it was a prize Reek should be dancing on his hind legs to get at.

'Yes, my lord?' Reek tried to say, but all that came out was a fearful whimper.

"I'd have you lick this bowl clean." Ramsay told him. "Or you'll be sorry you ever said you were hungry, do you understand me?"

Reek nodded, and didn't try speaking because he knew no real words would come out. He was sorry for his thoughts of licking the bowl earlier. He never would have had those thoughts if he had known what his Lord Ramsay would be feeding him.

Ramsay set the bowl on the table. He slid back his chair even more, making room. "Up here, pup." He said as he patted the sturdy oak table top in front of him.

So it wasn't enough that Reek was actually going to have to eat all that? Ramsay would have the whole dining hall watch? If Reek had a tail it would be tucked between his legs.

He struggled to his feet. Standing was hard enough for him, but after hours kneeling on the cold stone floor it was even harder. It didn't help that he was scared half to death of what would happen to him. He knew he wouldn't be able to finish off that bowl, and punishment was sure to come if he didn't. He was trembling as he tried to lift a leg onto the table to climb up. He could barely raise his foot off the ground. It was Ramsay who had to lift him. Though, it wasn't really a lift. He grabbed Reek too hard by the waist and shoved him until he could awkwardly clamber on to the table.

The Bastard's Boys laughed at how clumsy he was. They all drew their chairs in closer, eager to watch him eat.

Everyone was looking at him. Not just the men-at-arms who joined Ramsay at the table, but everyone sitting at the benches and tables that made up the rest of the dining hall too. They had stopped eating their dinner to see Reek eat his. To watch him lick it from a bowl like a dog would lap water from a dish.

Reek shied a little, knowing just how many were seeing him like this. It was easy to push them out of his mind though. It wasn't them he had to please, it was Ramsay. Just Ramsay. Give him a good show and make him happy, and the rest would be okay.

Reek resolved not to look out at anyone else. The table was high enough up that Reek tried not to look down at the ground either. One shove of his lord Ramsay's hand and Reek could go toppling. He'd end up with bones broken if he wasn't careful. It was lucky he was just a dog, because dogs sat on their hands and knees. It brought him face to face with his dinner though, and Reek gagged just to see it all up close.

Reek knew not to keep Ramsay waiting. He knew he should just go for it, and start eating, because the more he sat and stared at it the more horrified he would be... He just couldn't make himself do it. Couldn't even stick out his tongue for a taste. He knew what a man's seed tasted like, Ramsay had come in his mouth enough times for him to know that, so he knew he wouldn't be able to bare a whole bowl full of it.

"Reek." Ramsay's voice was low in warning as he said the dog's name.

Ramsay's tone was worse than any threat. That tone went hand in hand with blood, and knives, and pain. So much pain. Reek didn't want to endure any more than he had to, so despite his own body's protests he willed himself to eat. He bowed his head, and stuck out his tongue and he took a big lick from the bowl. It was just as awful as he thought it would be, salty, and bitter, and thick. He gagged again as he swallowed a mouthful down and tears from gagging welled up in his eyes. Reek's whole body shook as forced himself to use his tongue and take a second lap.

His ears were ringing. Reek hadn't realized it until he noticed Ramsay's laughter coming to him muffled and quiet. It was the terrible taste of warm come dulling his other senses, refusing to be over shadowed. There was nothing else but that taste, and that texture. It coated his tongue and his teeth and the back of his throat. He had to swallow again and again just to get any of it down, which was made harder by the tightness of his collar.

It wasn't easy, but he actually managed to eat through most of the bowl. He started feeling nauseous half way, and after that it was a real fight to continue. Each lap of his tongue came back gooey, rich with seed, and each time he gagged and shook and fought to keep down what he'd eaten. A lot of it dripped down his chin as he ate. He had to bury his face in the bowl to get to the bottom. Come got on his nose and the sides of his face. Reek could have sworn he felt it moving on his skin, like it was seething. He found himself shuddering in disgust as the sensation. He was probably only imagining it, but it felt so real.

When there was nearly nothing left, Reek lifted his head to look to Ramsay. Ramsay laughed at his messy face. "Are you finished, dog?" He asked.

Reek nodded. He couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't manage another lick.

Ramsay reached out to tip the bowl and look inside. It wasn't spotless, but for how full it had been it was amazing Reek had managed to choke it all down.

Ramsay was still deciding whether he would have the little that was left in the bowl licked clean or not when Reek felt a burp growing in his belly. It gurgled up his stomach, and he opened his mouth to let it out. Except it wasn't just a burp, thick milky vomit came squishing out with it. Bile and half-digested come burned up the back of his throat and splattered acrid and white on the dark oak table. Reek's stomach convulsed, urging him to retch again. He had to clamp his jaw shut and bring a hand to his mouth to keep it that way.

Reek stared at what he'd done in horror. He had tears in his eyes from being sick, but he could still see the mess. Ramsay would have his skin for this. All of it. Stripped and hung on the walls.

Reek's ears were ringing again. He felt a hand in his hair before he heard or saw anything; Ramsay's hand. He was jerked by his scalp, forced face-first into the pile of puke he'd made. Ramsay was shouting at him, but Reek couldn't make sense of the angry noises over the buzzing in his brain.

Ramsay ground his cheek into the spit-up come, forcing Reek to see and feel just what he'd done. Reek thought he heard him saying 'bad dog'. He couldn't argue it, he knew it was true. He was bad. Even if he couldn't have known he'd be sick like that, he was still bad. He shouldn't have thrown up. Not in front of his Lord Ramsay and all his men, and everyone else. Reek was disgusting. He was disrespectful. He was a disgrace.

"My lord, please." Reek said, as soon as he could make words. His voice was wet and froggy as he spoke. He could barely hear himself, but the sounds of the world were coming back to him. Slowly. Surely. His chest was heaving with labored panting, and his face smarted from where Ramsay had forced it to meet the table. "Please forgive me." Reek begged. "Please, please, please."

"Clean it up." Ramsay demanded.

His hearing returned to him. The words were no longer muffled but crystal clear in Reek's ears. He knew what he had to do.

Ramsay still had a tight grip on his hair but Reek fought it to turn his face. He licked his vomit from the table. It tasted even worse the second time, but Reek's fear kept him from gagging on it. He had to do this or he’d lose another finger... another toe... something worse. Reek had to see it done. The wood table splintered his tongue, and it smelled worse than he did, but he had to finish it. He had to lick it all from the table.

Reek scraped his tongue dry on the wood, and would have kept going if Ramsay had not given his collar a jerk. "Enough." He said, sounding especially displeased.

Reek whimpered in reply. He was sorry for not keeping down his dinner, but he hadn't done it on purpose! It was only an accident. Lord Ramsay had to know that. Reek had cleaned up the mess, but he didn't know what else he could do to fix his mistake. "Please!" He tried to say, but his tongue was raw and heavy in his mouth and the word came out sounding very different than he'd intended.

Skinner had a knife in his hands then, one he hadn't had a moment ago. Reek could see it in the corner of his eye. It could have just been one from the table to cut meat with, not the one of the ones he used on humans. It didn't matter to Reek. The panic that filled him was instant, like a strike of lightening or a burst of flame. His whole body went white hot and he shot up straight, scrambling back. He fell on his ass and kicked plates and bowls in his madness.

He had been afraid of falling from the table earlier, but in his fear he scrabbled closer and closer to the edge. A broken bone would be better than a flaying. Reek would rather have every single bone broken than have to feel the blade of that knife.

“Please!” He was shouting without realizing. His tongue was swollen now, and that made it harder to speak, but it did not stop his begging. “I’ll do anything! Please! My lord forgive me! I’ll do anything! Anything!”

Ramsay caught him by his ankle and pulled. Pulled him close enough to lay a devastating back hand across his face. It had Reek seeing stars, and tasting blood, and it shut him up quick. Ramsay seized him by his face, fingers squeezing into chin, forcing Reek to look him in the eye. “How dare you?” Ramsay accused, voice dropping somewhere low and dangerous.

Reek whimpered.

“You’re lucky I feed you at all, and this is how you repay me? By being sick all over the table?” He narrowed his eyes in disgust, and squeezed Reek’s chin harder, fingers digging into the soft of his jaw. Reek cried out in pain. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Ramsay demanded, at last, and let the dog’s face go.

“I-i-i…I’ll make it up to you!” Reek stammered. He felt like being sick all over again under Ramsay’s dark gaze.

“…Go on then.” Ramsay challenged.

Reek had to think quickly. That was a hard thing to do with Lord Ramsay looking at him the way he did. Each hurt on his body sang out in pain and distracted him. His knees, and his jaw, and his cheek from the slap. His stomach was queasy and his throat burned. Through all of it, Reek struggled to come up with something that would do. Anything at all that would be good enough.

He turned over. He pressed his belly to the table and spread his legs. He was shaking. He couldn't stop. "You could have me." Reek said. "And your men. All of you. As many times as you liked."

All of the Bastard's Boys were hushed silent, not saying a single thing. Ramsay was quiet too. On his belly, Reek couldn't see him. It was easier to not be afraid when he didn't have to see the violent look on his lord Ramsay's face, but that meant Reek had no way of knowing whether what he was offering would please him or not. Reek tried to glance over his shoulder to see, but his collar made it hard for him to turn his head.

Ramsay had fucked him before, plenty of times. Taking Reek from behind wouldn't be anything special. It was the fact that he was offering, and begging for it that made the difference. Ramsay had only ever had him in the dark of the dungeons after kicking and screaming and being beaten to obey.

"I won't resist, my lord." Reek promised. "Won't even scream."

"What's the fun if you don't scream?" Ramsay asked.

Reek felt terror all over him again. It was the same terror he'd felt when he'd seen Skinner with a knife in his hands. It was immediate, and terrible, and it left him weak.

"Grab his arms." Ramsay said.

Reek knew he had just promised not to, but he saw men coming for him and he struggled anyway. They caught his wrists and stretched his arm taunt, pinning him to the table.

"The pup couldn't even keep down his dinner, I would be a fool to trust his promises to be still. See that he doesn't move." Ramsay ordered.

Reek felt hands on his ankles as well. He had already spread himself wide for Lord Ramsay, but they spread him wider. He tried to kick his feet, or squirm, but it was useless. He knew it would be, but he tried anyway.

"Have mercy on me, my lord!" Reek begged. He knew that was useless too. Ramsay didn't have an ounce of mercy in him.

Ramsay mounted him like the bitch he was. He held Reek by the waist and nudged his hard cock between the dog's ass cheeks. With his legs spread his tight little hole was on display so it was easy for Ramsay to find, and even easier to slam his cock into. There was no warning, just a dull crack of pain that made Reek go stiff. A strangled cry escaped his throat. It took a second before the real shock to hit him, it always did.

The second wave of pain came crippling and terrible. It was a shockwave of torment and it's center was Reek's poor abused hole. His muscles spasmed, as if to reject the intrusion, and that hurt too. Gods, it hurt so much. It brought tears to his eyes and stilled his heart for a beat and it was all Reek could do to not go black from the pain of it. He knew for a fact he'd been split, a tear in his most soft and sensitive of skin that ripped it's way to his balls. Or where his balls would have been if he had any. If they hadn't been sliced away by a hot knife along with the rest of his manhood.

Lord Ramsay pulled out of him not a moment later and dark blood spotted his cock. Reek's blood.

"I said," Ramsay tightened his already too-tight grip on Reek's waist. He was making bruises on the dog's frail bones. "What's the fun if you don't scream?"

Ramsay slammed his cock into Reek again. It hurt worse than the first time.

Reek screamed for him. Not because it would have displeased Ramsay not to, but because the pain was so terrible all Reek could do was scream. And scream. And scream. Ramsay pulled out all the way and slammed his thick cock in over and over and over again and Reek kept on screaming.

He screamed until his voice ran hoarse.

He screamed until Ramsay had fucked himself dry.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading
> 
> [tumblr](http://deathtouch.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)


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